Killing Loneliness
by BL00DofTheViNE
Summary: Should've known how hard it is to stop tearing each other apart... One last caress from the corpse of love is all I want. In between all the fighting, they admit that all they really have is each other. Ulquiorra/Grimmjow slash. Previously Cyanide Sun
1. Cyanide Sun

**Synopsis: **One last caress from the corpse of love is all I want… This is what happens in between all the fighting, when they admit that all they really have is each other.

**Author's Notes: **Co-Authored by **Evanescent Crimson**. This is an Ulquiorra and Grimmjow one-shot. Written in first person, alternating between Ulquiorra and Grimmjow's POV, beginning with Ulquiorra. Yaoi.

**Warning: **Slash. Male/male sex. M-rated.

**Disclaimer:** The Bleach franchise and any characters or trademarks of Bleach that you may recognize in this story are not my own. The song title, Cyanide Sun, and lyrics thereof are property of HIM. No copyright infringement intended.

**POV ALTERNATES, BETWEEN EACH BOLD VERSE, STARTING WITH ULQIORRA.**

**Cyanide Sun**

**Should've known how hard it is to stop tearing each other apart**

**Separating souls entwined with all these Labyrinthine lies**

We sat around the large table in the conference room, Aizen-sama delivering a speech. I made sure to appear as if I were listening intently, as I always do. But the truth was, my mind never strayed far from the blue-haired arrancar opposite me.

His fists were clenched. I knew how hard this was for him; it was simply against his nature to submit to anyone, let alone a former shinigami. He kept silent however. Grimmjow Jeagerjacques was many things: arrogant, rash, passionate, hot-headed… But he was not stupid, and he knew better than to challenge Aizen-sama. For this I was grateful; I wouldn't appreciate it if he got himself killed, or thrown out of Hueco Mundo.

I caught his eye. We shared a look that went unnoticed by our fellow Espada. A look that said, "Hang in there".

**I am dead to you**

**A shadow doomed**

**My love, forever in the dark**

I lay in bed, staring at the stark white ceiling of my chamber. I knew I shouldn't have been thinking about it again, but my thoughts as per usual were running rampant. He was a room away. Cuarto. He'd sent me that reassuring look from across the table, as he knew what I was thinking and how I was feeling. His emerald eyes kept me sane and my temper in check. Within them, I was lost.

I was restless. Sick of the ceiling, sick of the stillness, I left my sleeping quarters to find something to eat. There was bound to be something to snack on in the kitchens. Even though we as arrancar don't need to eat, we like the feeling of being full. It was something we could never have as Hollows.

I stepped into the kitchen, white like everything else in this Godforsaken fortress. Las Noches. Even the sand was white. I walked over to the refrigerator and opened it, inspecting its contents. Retrieving a piece of steak out of its depths, I turned around to discover I was not alone.

**And of all untruths**

**The truest is you**

**Too close to my heart**

I watched Sexta walk into the kitchen, seemingly unaware of my presence. I sipped on my milk, silently, staring from the shadows. He wore white silk pants with nothing else. I pretended not to notice. Self-consciously I pulled my robe tighter around myself.

"Ulquiorra" he acknowledged, steak in hand.

"Jeagerjaques" I responded, emotionlessly as was custom for me. He looked like he wanted to say something, but appeared to decide against it, as he walked away. Like he had so many times before.

Just before he walked out the door, he turned to face me again. "Cuarto, I-"

"Trash" I said condescendingly, disdain in my eyes as I cast them to the floor. I was a coward, hiding behind harsh words, not even able to look Grimmjow in the eye.

His eyes reflected first hurt, then anger, but no surprise, which hurt me most of all. He expected nothing else from me, and I gave him nothing else to expect.

This is how it's always been. But not how it always will be, he decided, because he was walking up to me. He'd put the steak down on a counter and was confidently striding over to where I was sitting. I stood up, stood tall. He towered over me anyway.

My well-trained eyes and reflexes could see it coming, and I could easily have blocked it. But whether it was pride or shame that kept me still, I do not know. I let him hit me.

**This emptiness I've made my home**

**Embracing memories of dreams long gone**

We were back to square one. After everything, I was still worthless in his eyes. I tried to prove myself. But I was nothing.

Something snapped. I hated this… I hated him. How dare he? I lunged for his face and was slightly shocked when he didn't dodge my blow. He just looked at the ground. I suddenly felt very guilty. I'd expected him to move. And now I'd hurt him.

"Cuarto" I whispered, begging him with my eyes to see me. But he didn't look up. "Look at me!" I yelled. The black-haired Espada ignored me.

I grabbed Ulquiorra by the front of his white robe and pulled him closer, so that I could feel his cool breath on my face. Finally, he looked up at me, his beautiful green eyes pouring into mine.

I let go of the material gathered in my fist, causing Ulquiorra's robe to fall open. His pale, toned but slender chest was revealed, along with the gaping hole near his throat.

He was looking at me, but what it was exactly that I saw in those eyes, I couldn't really tell. I could never really tell.

This time, he spoke. "Sexta" he said evenly.

**One last caress from the corpse of love**

**Is all I want, underneath the cyanide sun**

We were always fighting. I was always hiding, he was always walking away. But this time he came back… Didn't I owe it to him not to hide?

"Sexta" I said. And then I hit him back, sending him crashing into the wall. He growled at me, getting up quickly and poising himself to fight.

We were at it for a couple of minutes, fighting with fervour but no real intent to kill. I know Grimmjow was just expressing himself. He was trying to communicate. "I'm not trash" he was trying to tell me. I guess he didn't know that I already knew.

My robe was all ripped up, so I let it slide off my shoulders to the floor, not breaking eye contact with my teal-eyed rival. He wanted me to look at him, and now I couldn't look away. He took a deep breath and launched himself at me again. Grimmjow's pants were apparently also all ripped up, and they were falling down, resting low on his hips. I had to suppress a smirk; I couldn't go giving away my thoughts or emotions. It was unbecoming of the Cuarto Espada.

I expected his fist to connect with my face again, but I was startled. His lips met mine instead. After the short-lived but heated kiss, I put my hands on his sculpted, tanned chest and shoved him off. Once again he flew back, hitting the door this time. With a feral grin, the man with blue hair stood up. His pants got left behind. He reached for the latch, flicking it up and thereby locking us in the kitchen.

"Come" he said.

**We've sailed the seas of grief**

**On a raft built with our tears **

**Looking for a way to disappear**

**For a moment from our deepest fears**

"Come" I beckoned. I stood naked before the man who'd caused all the suffering, who'd made me question everything about myself. Behind me, a locked door, the only exit.

Ulquiorra. The devil of my nightmares and the angel of my dreams. Murciélago, the winged demon.

I moved towards him boldly. He was enough of a warrior not to take a step back. His face betrayed nothing. He may have been angry, afraid, disgusted, or excited, and I wouldn't have known either way.

I stood once more right in front of him, looking into his deep green eyes. We lived a strange existence and all we really had wad each other. Why couldn't he see that? If nothing else in the hell hole that was Hueco Mundo, he could've had me. If only he wanted me.

Without warning, Ulquiorra grabbed me by the throat and shoved me against a wall. It was seconds before I felt his soft lips on mine once again.

We are creatures born from despair and fear, but now I was unafraid. We only walk with the living, but we are dead beyond reason. But now I felt alive.

After a few moments of desperate, need-filled kissing, I lifted Ulquiorra up and placed him (not exactly gently, but I knew he could handle it) on the table. His empty glass of milk shattered under his weight. He didn't seem to notice he was laying on a bed of broken glass, as his lips didn't leave mine. At least not until they found my neck. I loomed over the slighter, paler man, letting him bruise me. It was okay for him to mark me; I already knew I was his.

I was already naked, so with Ulquiorra's pajama pants, I felt he was too clothed. I quickly solved that problem. He didn't look away as I unsheathed him. He was a man. He was not shy.

I climbed back on top of him, straddling him and grinding my erection against his. I could feel shards of glass in my knees. I could only imagine what was happening to his back. "Cuarto" I moaned into his ear.

"Sexta" he replied breathlessly. I was mildly surprised. He was acknowledging me even now, with my hands all over his body. His hands were all over mine. They found their way to my throbbing length, which he began to touch as if it were a precious treasure. As if all he'd ever wanted to do was touch me. It made me groan in pleasure.

I played with his pale pink nipples in my mouth for a while as he stroked me. After another moment I was too aroused to be satisfied. I needed to be inside him. I placed one of my fingers in his mouth. Wantonly he slicked it with saliva, biting my fingertip suggestively. I removed my finger and replaced it at his entrance. Again I was surprised. He spread his legs for me. Trusting me.

This wasn't slow. It wasn't soft and gently and caring. But even though it was rough and heavy and fast and hard, somewhere between the heavy, laboured breathing and the sheen of sweat between our skin, somehow, it was romantic.

I prepared Ulquiorra as best I could. His eyes were closed. At least not scrunched in pain. His face was unreadable. He gapsed and bit down on his bottom lip, so I knew I'd done something right. I'd found a specific spot. Once he was pushing himself down onto three fingers, I figured he was ready. And even if he wasn't, I was.

I lifted Ulquiorra's hips up and aligned him so that I was probing his opening. Slowly I slid inside him. He was hot and tight and the feeling was amazing. He gripped the sides of the table with his white hands. I was hesitant. What if I hurt him? I stayed still, allowing him to adjust to the intrusion.

"Sexta" he groaned. "Move" he ordered. I began to move, sliding in and out slowly, increasing the pace when I was sure that it was okay. We settled into a nice rhythm, with me repeatedly grinding Ulquiorra into the marble table and pieces of broken glass. If anything, he seemed to like it. His face wasn't so straight now; his mouth was slightly open in a sexy pout as he moaned. I've never known him to be so vocal during sex.

Soon I felt a familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach, deep in my abdomen. I knew I was close to coming. I began to pump Ulquiorra's length in time with our movement, which was becoming increasingly difficult as we sped up and tried to keep in time. After a few moments of extremely wild pleasure, the black-haired Espada arched his back and cried out my name as he came into my hand, all over my stomach. And into my hollow-hole. The feeling of his muscles clenching around me drove me over the edge, and my orgasm was not far behind. It was almost unbearably intense, and I was still tingling, my heart racing from the strain of the workout. We were both physically fit, and our competitiveness made us tire each other out, even in sex.

Trying to regain composure, I pulled myself out of Ulquiorra and lay beside him, almost on top of him. I doubted he'd appreciate the intimate gesture, but I was too worn out to move. I needed to sleep, and would have loved to have done so in my lover's arms. But he was not my lover. To Cuarto, I was just a toy. Wasn't I?

I drew breath sharply when I felt a warm arm wrap around me and pull me closer. Ulquiorra placed his hand on my jaw (the side without the mask) and gazed deeply into my eyes. I felt like crying. No one had ever looked at me like that before. Like I was worth something.

I couldn't help myself. I propped myself up, supported by my elbows, and placed a slow, gently kiss on the higher-ranked Espada's lips. I started to pull away but he caught my lips before I could. We lay on the kitchen table, kissing leisurely in the aftermath of our love-making. That's what it was to me, even if to him it was just fucking. I took the time to explore his mouth, learning everything I could with my tongue, not knowing if or when I'd ever have this chance again. Although, after that mind-blowing experience, I doubt either of us would be able to keep away for very long.

After a few moments, I pulled away and rested my head on Ulquiorra's chest, snuggling into him, still surprising myself with the boldness of my actions. But I figured, if I could fuck him, I could hold him.

I knew this was my resting place.

"Jeagerjaques" he said quietly, trailing a finger along my arm and giving me shivers. We were on a cold, marble table after all, and we had no clothes on. "I have nothing but despair and despondency to give you" Ulquiorra said, sounding even. He was not sad about this fact; he was merely stating the truth of the matter.

"I'll take it" I replied. Even if his world was made up of anguish and suffering, I wanted to be a part of it. After all, my world was too. It made sense to do it together. To be together.

But alas, I knew we'd be fighting again tomorrow. Somehow though, it made me feel better that tonight (tomorrow it would be last night) I had him moaning and calling out my name as he came hard all over me.

But even if we were fighting, even if we were overwhelmed by the grief of living, we'd still have each other.

**I'll be drowning you in this river of gloom**

**Forever in my heart**

It was almost morning. I knew we couldn't lie here until then, or we'd be asking for someone to find us. And I didn't wasn't to found naked on a tabletop, covered in semen, wrapped up in Grimmjow's arms. It wouldn't do.

I got up and began to assess the damage. Stuff was broken, but that was from our fight. We'd have to stick to the story that that was all that'd happened. I could feel blood running down my back from where I'd lain on glass. In my opinion, it'd added a whole new level of sensation to the experience.

My pajama pants were on the floor. I quickly slipped them back on, as well as my torn robe. I could feel the apathy and misery settling back in after the high of elation. The ecstasy of orgasm. Now I was just tired, ready to fall into my soft sheets and sleep. And hopefully never wake up. How would I face him? How would I tell Sexta I wanted to do this again?

I looked around the room guiltily. I was about to leave, but before I did, I glanced back at Grimmjow who was now sitting up on the table near the edge. His hair was messed up. I didn't even want to know what mine looked like. He had a strange look in his eye. I needed to leave before I curled like a cinder in the flame of his gaze.

But before I did, I walked up to his and put my arms around his toned waist, snuggling my face in his neck, inhaling his scent. He smelt uniquely Grimmjow, with a mixture of sweat, sex, and me. He returned the embrace, holding me in his strong, tanned arms. "Again, Cuarto" he whispered into my hair, stroking my back.

I silently agreed. "Tomorrow" I said. Neither of us would want to wait any longer; not when we'd found a source of heat in this shared world of cold.

"My room" Grimmjow stated. Again I agreed. I kissed him one more time before I departed.

Later, I lay in bed, clutching my blankets close to me, wishing he was here with me. I wanted too sleep beside him, but that was for another night.

He could give me what I need, and I him. What more could creatures damned such as ourselves ask for? He is all I want.

**One last caress from the corpse of love**

**Is all I want, beneath the cyanide sun**

**Author's note: **A review would be highly appreciated. Let me know if we should continue or leave this here.


	2. Sleepwalking Past Hope

Synopsis: Forever we're lost in our souls' storm, reflections of each other's faults.

**Author's Notes:** I guess the one-shot became a two-shot. This is an Ulquiorra and Grimmjow love story. Written in first person, alternating between Ulquiorra and Grimmjow's POV, beginning with Ulquiorra. Yaoi.

**Warning: **Slash. Male/male sex. M-rated.

**Disclaimer:** The Bleach franchise and any characters or trademarks of Bleach that you may recognize in this story are not my own. The song title, Sleepwalking Past Hope, and lyrics thereof are property of HIM. No copyright infringement intended.

**POV ALTERNATES, BETWEEN EACH BOLD VERSE, STARTING WITH ULQUIORRA.**

**Sleepwalking Past Hope**

**I hid the keys to unlock love's heart**

**To hold you in my sweetest pain and suffering**

I slept better than I've ever slept before. My body hurt in a couple of places. It was worth it though. I woke up early that morning, noticing that there was dried blood on my sheets from where my back had bled. I could tell I was walking weirdly too.

I stepped into my shower, turning the water as hot as it would go, leaving angry red marks all over my body. The dried blood on my back washed away, stinging. I let the water cascade over me; clearing my head. Even thinking of what I'd done, I didn't feel dirty.

I wondered vaguely how Grimmjow had gotten back to his room. Had he made it without getting noticed, like I had? Or had someone found him, naked, and figured out what had happened?

I turned the heat down as the water was burning me. Grimmjow… What had we started? And how would it end? Would we be able to maintain any sort of relationship here in Hueco Mundo?

**Everything's unfair in our lust and war**

**Redemption beyond right and wrong**

I sincerely hoped that I wouldn't have to get out of bed today. I had much to ponder, and my body was tired. A different kind of tiredness from any fight I've been in, from any battle I've fought. This was a good kind of tired.

I pulled a fluffy pillow closer to my body and rolled over on to it. It was soft. Without consciously thinking about it, I concentrated on locating a certain reiatsu. He was in his room.

Ulquiorra. He was so strong. Stronger than me, although I'd never say it out loud. I guess everyone knew though, since he's two ranks higher than me. Something about that fact made me want him even more. There's always been this tension between us. Repressed sexual energy.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by a powerful reiatsu radiating through all of Las Noches. Aizen, the bastard, was calling yet another meeting. Slowly, I arose and readied myself. I wondered what he wanted this time.

**In our hearts, love keeps sweet-talking to despair**

**And goes on sleepwalking past hope**

Another meeting. I sat across from Grimmjow as usual. Aizen-sama had a mission for one of us. A dangerous mission. One that the chosen person might not return from. I wouldn't complain if I was chosen to fulfill the task, as I didn't mind doing Aizen-sama's bidding. He had a higher aim that I was happy to be a part of. But I had a feeling it wouldn't be me. Aizen-sama wouldn't send me too far. Not to sound narcissistic or anything, but he valued me too much.

No, it would be someone of a lower rank, who he could afford to lose, but someone of a high enough rank to have a chance of surviving.

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, the sexta Espada. Aizen-sama chose him. And he would be leaving immediately. No time for preparations; no time for goodbyes. Perhaps it was for the better. I wouldn't have known what to say anyway.

**All is lost in this war**

**And all we can do is wail and weep**

**To the saddest song**

Mentally I blasted a Cero at point-blank range right into Aizen's face. This was a suicide mission, and he wanted it to be me who went. Right away.

That ruined my plans for that night. It may have ruined any plans I had for the future at all. Would I return to Hueco Mundo? Would I walk the halls of Las Noches ever again? I couldn't tell. I just wish I could have said something. There was only one person I needed to say something to, and he'd already retreated to his chambers. No goodbye, Ulquiorra?

I suppose… If he had said goodbye, it would have made it more final and sealed my fate. Perhaps now, I'd fight even harder, knowing I still had something to say to Cuarto.

I am not the type of person to go down without a fight, but even I can tell when the odds are against me, when I might not make it through this mission. But I guess that's what I'm here for; to be one of Aizen's little pawns. I'm not such a big sacrifice for him to make.

Aizen opened a portal for me out of Hueco Mundo. I stepped through without looking back.

**I unlit the light to embrace the dark**

**To be near but not to turn into you**

**My darling**

He was gone. I could feel his reiatsu disappear. Wherever he was, it wasn't Hueco Mundo. Despite myself, I silently prayed he would return. I would never say it, but I wanted him to be okay. I wanted to see him again.

I had nothing to do with myself now. What could I do? I was not about to sit and worry; what was meant to happen would happen regardless. If Grimmjow died, never to see or touch me again, I would carry on. Wouldn't I? I'd still be the Cuarto Espada, one of Aizen-sama's most valued soldiers. I would still fight for him.

But what would I be fighting for, really?

I wondered what would happen to one of us if we were to "die". Were we not dead already? I'd seen what Grimmjow did to Luppi, his replacement when he'd (temporarily) lost his rank. Had he gone to Soul Society, memories gone, to roam the streets of Rukongai? Or had he ceased to exist at all, leaving only a memory that too would fade?

Would that happen to Grimmjow? Would I never stroke his cheek again, or feel him looking into the depths of my eyes, seeing what I tried to hide from everyone else? Would we ever rock to the rhythm of our pounding hearts as he pounded himself into me, again?

I could only wonder.

**Forever we're lost in our souls' storm**

**Reflections of each other's faults**

I fought harder than ever. Before, all I had as my incentive was to live to fight another day. The joy of battle. That was my reason. I cared nothing for Aizen's "higher plan". All it meant to me was that I would have stronger, better opponents.

But things were different now. I had something to return to, or more accurately, someone. I wondered if he was waiting for me. If he was expecting (or maybe even hoping) that I come home.

I had a reason, and if not for that reason, I doubt I would have survived. But I did. It took everything out of me, everything I had to make it… But there I was, alive (somewhat) and ready to go back to the arms of the only person I gave a shit about.

But there was nothing for me. No portal to return through. I was trapped in an unknown dimension with no way to call out, no way to be saved.

All that was left for me was to wait; to survive, with the hopes of one day seeing that pail, tear-streaked face again.

**I gave up long ago**

**Painted love with crimson flow**

**Ran out of blood and hope**

**So I paint you no more**

Weeks had gone by. And still, I was alone. Without him, I was stuck here in Las Noches with even less emotion, even less to say.

What had happened? Where had he gone? Why hadn't he come back yet?

"Aizen-sama". There was only one person to ask about this, so I put my pride aside. "What has become of Sexta?"

"Ah, Ulquiorra. Grimmjow has not returned to Hueco Mundo. But he succeeded in his mission, much to my surprise and delight" the overlord spoke calmly with that warm smile he always wore. I understood why they'd always trusted him in Soul Society.

"Oh?" I inquired. My face remained straight. There was no way I was showing how relieved I was to hear that. "Why hasn't he returned, then?"

Aizen-sama turned his swivel-chair better to face me. "We've lost him" he stated plainly. He saw my look of slight confusion. You lost him? But I thought you said he survived? "We don't know where he is" Aizen-sama explained.

"But-" I was about to say something, but had no idea what. I was angry. How could he be lost? What kind of pathetic organization was Aizen-sama running here? How the hell could he LOSE one of the Espada, the elite of his team of soldiers? I had no words to say.

"I'm sure you can understand how upsetting this is for me" Aizen-sama said. He looked anything but upset. For the first time in my memory, I wanted to stab him. I just looked at him. "Which is why I've decided to send you to look for him and retrieve him" the former shinigami stated.

What? Really? I thought. "He is most likely still alive. I have no reservations about sending you, now that the real danger is gone" Aizen-sama said. That just confirmed what I said earlier. He valued me too much. I was mildly insulted. Did he not think I could handle the danger?

"Yes, Aizen-sama" I said robotically.

**My hell begins from the tenth**

**And descends to the circle**

**Six hundred threescore and six**

There were no lost souls here. There were only shadows. From the weeks that I'd been in this place, I'd managed to gather that it was not the human world. This was also not Soul Society. This was another dimension, somewhere between Soul Society and Hueco Mundo. The realm of the dead that were beyond death.

Here I'd encountered the shadows of people I'd killed. This, surely, was hell. Where the people had no form; only shades of darkness and silhouettes. Satan reigned here.

When humans die, their souls go to Soul Society. If they don't, they become Hollows and go to Hueco Mundo. Now I knew what happened when a Hollow died. They came here, to Hell.

I'd fought so hard, held on to tightly, clinging to life. And what for? To be trapped here, starving, tired and feverish. I'd held on, but my grip was slipping. I was losing the remnants of my sanity. Just when I thought I couldn't hold on any more, when my vision faded to black and I fell desperately to my knees, I thought I saw a vision, in my delirium. I thought I saw Ulquiorra in the distance.

**And from there I crawl**

**Beneath Lucifer's claw**

I searched for him in this dark, hallowed place. I was afraid. I never thought I'd feel true fear, but this truly was what it must have felt like. There was nothing that was frightening; rather, it was the lack of something that was frightening. The emptiness and the heat were unnerving. It was like a desert of nothing but fire and shadows.

It didn't take too long to find him. My first thought was that he was dead; but that couldn't be so. If he had died, his body would no longer be there. Would it become one of the shadows that flickered in the glow of the fire? I could only guess.

I kneeled down and touched his forehead. It was hot. Grimmjow's torso was adorned with all manner of scars and marks that were certainly not there before. His clothes were ragged and dirty. His hair was out of place.

But he was alive, and that was all that mattered. To me, he was perfect. I picked him up none too carefully and threw him over my shoulder. I was not about to carry him princess-style. He was a man and I would treat him as such.

As I walked towards the portal that I'd left open, I could feel the drawback; the shadows were scratching at my wrists and ankles and neck. They didn't want me to go. I had to leave though, as soon as I could, before it could to the point where I couldn't any more. My feet felt like lead and the weight of Grimmjow's body was almost too much. This dimension was warped.

With a final surge of sheer willpower, I stepped through the doorway, back to our world; the world the shinigami thought was "hell". They had no idea what lay beyond, past our realm of hollow souls. The true hell that even I now feared.

**Just for one last kiss**

I woke up in a stark white room with white sheets and white furniture, wearing a white hospital gown. My first thought was that I must be in Las Noches.

I was right. I didn't know how I got there, but I was back in Hueco Mundo. More specifically, in the medical facility. I wasn't sure how long I'd been there or how far along in my recovery I was. Judging by all the wires and tubes I was connected to, I'd probably been in pretty bad shape when I'd arrived.

I tried moving my fingers. They seemed to be working fine. I lifted my arm up slowly. It didn't hurt. In fact, I didn't really hurt anywhere. But I still couldn't really move much. I supposed my body was just lagging from being still for so long; it was out of practice.

After another moment of gingerly experimenting with movement, I closed my eyes and focused. I almost jumped out of my bed when I realized where that reiatsu was coming from. Ulquiorra's unique spiritual signature.

"Cuarto" I said, surprised at the hoarseness of my voice. He was right there, standing in the shadows, against the wall in my ward.

"You're awake" he stated the obvious.

"No shit" I replied. I thought I saw a flicker of a smile in his eyes, but it was gone so fast that I wasn't really sure if it had been there at all.

"Indeed" he remarked quietly, arms crossed. He closed his eyes, bowing his head. A few strands of his black, messy hair fell forward into his face.

I tried again to move, but found I couldn't. "Why the fuck can't I move? Its not like I'm in pain" I demanded to know, frustrated.

"When you were connected to life-support, you started thrashing about wildly. The medics couldn't keep you down. So they administered a muscle sedative" Ulquiorra explained, lifting his head and opening his green eyes again.

"How long…?" I asked.

"Almost two weeks" he answered. Two weeks, huh? That's how long I was unconscious.

"Bet Aizen's got something nasty to say about that" I snorted. He probably saw me as weak now. As if he hadn't before.

"Aizen-sama is glad you survived at all" he said emotionlessly. I turned my head (with a bit of difficulty) to look out the window. As always, it was night-time. Don't know what else I expected.

I felt a cool hand on my forearm. I turned my gaze up to Ulquiorra's face. Those teal tear-tracks were more beautiful than ever. "Did you miss me?" I asked with a grin.

He didn't say anything. And then he smiled. He actually smiled.

I tried to move my head up to his so I could kiss him, but my neck wasn't so accommodating. Ulquiorra let go of my arm and turned away, walking towards the door. Momentarily I panicked. He was leaving? Already? But then he locked the door and returned to my bedside.

"You're not in pain, you say?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I just can't move much". I then caught sight of a devilish look in Ulquiorra's eye. He was planning something.

He seemed to smirk at what I assumed was the look of confusion on my face. With this mischievous look, the Cuarto Espada pulled down my sheet until it pooled around my knees. My eyes grew wide. He then climbed up onto my bed, sitting on my ankles.

Ulquiorra seductively pushed my hospital gown up so that I was exposed. I could already feel the blood flowing to my cheeks – and to my groin. Slowly, while looking right into my eyes, he bent forward and enclosed his lips around my manhood.

For someone who didn't speak all that much, he was really quite skilled with his mouth. Especially his tongue.

I lay back helplessly while Ulquiorra pleasured me until I couldn't take the intensity of it any more, and I found my release right into his mouth.

After I came down from the high that was ecstasy, Cuarto moved in a cat-like manner up the bed to place a kiss on my lips. I could taste my own essence. I kissed him back adoringly, trying to say what I couldn't out loud. "Thank you for saving me". "Thank you for being here". "I need you". "I did it all for you". I only hoped he understood.

Ulquiorra gracefully descended from the bed and straightened out his uniform. "Rest well, Sexta" he said emotionlessly. But I swore I could hear a hint of an evil smirk.

He began to walk away when I realized that I couldn't move enough to pull my sheets back up and my hospital gown down. "You can't leave me like this!" I yelled in protest.

He looked back at me over his shoulder. "I can do what I want"

Damn him! He was so sensual, even when he was being an insufferable prick. I wasn't about to beg for help.

He visibly smirked this time when he saw my internal debate. He must have felt a twinge of compassion, for he turned back to me and fixed me up. There wasn't much he could do about the sheets though. At least the white stains matched.

**In our hearts, love keeps sweet-talking to despair**

It was harder than he ever could have imagined; leaving him. Even if it was just to return to my chamber. I'd been away from him so long that I was almost afraid that if I walked away, I could never go back. But when I remembered his erotic cries and moans of joyous sensation, I knew that he would be waiting for me. Always.

Would it just be for the physical pleasure we brought each other? Would it ever mean more to either of us? At that moment I couldn't and didn't know. But I knew; as long as our soulless eyes could see and our blackened hearts could beat (metaphorically of course), we would live on together. Giving life to each other, because without the one, the other was dead. Two Espada. In a twisted web of "love".

He was alive. We were reunited. And nothing could take that away from us. And even though there were so many questions left unanswered, nothing could have meant more to me than that he was here. What else could have mattered? What more could I need?

**And goes on sleepwalking past hope**

**Author's note: **Please review?


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